I chased the fly out of the kitchen

He will die tonight

I opened the door onto the yard

And many times I shooed him out with the yellow napkin

And each time he came back in.

In a small saucepan on the stove

I was cooking black-eyed beans

The fly flew toward the pan

Drinking in the steam from the beans

I swatted at him with the napkin

Careful not to hit him-

I don’t want his blood on my hands.

He made a turn and hid under the table

I could easily have grabbed him

I was scared I would catch germs and kill the fly as well.

I don’t want his death to be at my hand.

I chased him out with the yellow napkin

And quickly closed the door

If I want to have a smoke in the yard

I must remember to shut the door after me

If the fly were smart

He would go and sit on that vent – is it from the boiler?

There is always warm steam there

I don’t think he is that intelligent

And I wouldn’t know how to explain this to him

And anyway, he is not going to last the winter is he?

Alireza Abiz